


On the Credence of Being a Ruler

by The_Crab_Overlord



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: and probably stabs someone, crab talks to twitch chat, havok cult, hey girl hey, i'm an inniter, so yeah I've been sitting on this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Crab_Overlord/pseuds/The_Crab_Overlord
Summary: as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7
Collections: The Credence - Stories from Floor Six





	On the Credence of Being a Ruler

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snart/gifts), [i really hope that's you](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=i+really+hope+that%27s+you).



The kingdom of the queen is in turmoil.

She could hear the shouts coming from down the hall. 

The single chair in the room had been bolted to the floor following an...altercation with a guard. She was defenseless, except for her own hands and feet.

Men and women, people, clambered down the dimly lit, concrete hallways. Did they know where they were? Did they know that they were in hell? They had to, they had to. It is impossible to be in hell without seeing the flames, without feeling the heat. 

There is only one devil, but the sins he has committed are many.

She saw their faces as she stood, silent, still, in the center of the cell. 

The queen sits in the dungeon. Her dress is in tatters. 

“Lesia? Er, the Crab Overlord.” A stranger’s voice floats down the hallway. A small crowd, maybe five people stopped in front of her cell. They were dirty, bruised. They had weapons. They had been fighting. 

“What do you want?” Lesia answered, her tone threatening, eyes level. 

“Thank the solstices that we found you. We’re here to help you get back to the Tower.”

“And, just to clear things up for me, why would I want to go back there? I just got out.”

“We need you to get any of your friends who are Rebellion sympathizers out of the Tower, and into the woods. We’re getting you to headquarters, but you have to hurry.” The man shoved a backpack into her hands. She took out a pair of cargo pants, a T-shirt,

And a knife. A holster to match. She looked back up.

“We’ll accompany you to the base of the tower. From there, it’s your job to get back up to Floor Six, and come back down. We’ll be waiting nearby to get you to the rendezvous point.”

Lesia finally nodded. “Let’s do it.”

The city was in shambles.

Peacekeepers and citizens clashed in the streets. Lesia managed to slip through the streets undetected. She was hit by objects a few times, but she made it to the Tower intact. Before breaking in, one of her saviours gave her a phone. She was told it had a secure connection. Untrackable. She managed to get into her Twitch account.

She presses “go live.”

The queen is speaking to her subjects.

The feed is crackly. It's dropping frames and filled with static. 

"Can you hear me? I'm on a secure network"

The starting screen turns off. It's late, but nothing the viewers of CrabOverlord aren't used to. 

"Where have you been?"

"Did you really almost kill Ollie?"

"Chat, calm down. I don't have much time. Tonight is a special one."

She flips the camera around to reveal she's in a staircase. 

"We're breaking into the Tower."

Crab is running up the stairs.

"No, chat. I can't tell you anything. We're leaving. It's time to go." She finds the door into floor five. She breaks the lock open with the hilt of her knife. She knows exactly where the hole is, the problem is getting up there. She pushes a decorative chest down the hallway to rest under the hole in the ceiling. 

She climbs on the chest.

She jumps.

She pushes herself up with a grunt. 

"Wish me luck, chat."

[This broadcast has ended. We will now redirect you to a different stream.]

Crab throws herself onto the ground. She stands in the dark hallway, and silently makes her way to the common room. The TV is on. It's news footage. 

"We have to go. Now."

Heads whip around, facing a dead, crazed, possibly homicidal maniac, who simply looked...happy. 

"Lesia? How did you get away? I thought they-" Maya pauses, confusion in her eyes, "I thought you went mad."

"Maya, I escaped. Things are bad in the city, but there are people sympathetic to the cause. They're willing to help us get away. They're willing to help us fight, but we don't have much time. They're going to realize where I am."

Mis stands. Maya stands. Ray stands.  
"We're with you," he says, confidence ringing though all four feet of his body. 

Lesia smiles.

"Let's do this.”

The queen is speaking to her court.

She walks back to her room, the rest of the floors stunned.  
There's a cut on her forehead and it drips into her eye. 

In her room, yes, her own room (though not for much longer), she bandages it. She had ran through streets that were already in the throes of battle, e'en though she knew the city would not fall so easily. Everything was arranged. There was a transport waiting just outside the Capitol. 

They had to leave. 

She filled a backpack with clothes and other necessities, carefully folding a lightly-dusted crown into it. 

She picks the sword off the dresser. She wraps the belt around her waist, and she prepares to make the hardest speech of her life. 

The backpack stays in her former room. 

Yes, her former room. 

The queen has returned to her castle; to destroy it, and build anew.

Lesia enters the common room once again.

Her hair is combed, her face is washed. 

All eyes flick to her. 

“This is a decisive and divisive moment in the history of this nation. It is also a decisive and divisive moment here, in this room. There is a squad waiting downstairs to take those of us that want to make change in this country to a secure location. From this moment on, you're either with me," she pauses, her chin lifting, her right hand finding its place on the hilt of the rapier dangling from her hip, "or you're against us all." Her voice is steady, but roars with the flames of a fire freshly fueled. "I have slept with you, I have cooked with you, and tonight is the only night that your friendship is an excuse for mercy. Either we walk out these doors together, or we never meet in peace again." Her sword sits in her hand, dust flaking off. "Choose for yourselves your fate this day."

A queen takes back her throne.


End file.
